


And The Rain Comes

by UlisaBarbic



Category: Gummi Bears (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mother-son - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9246887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlisaBarbic/pseuds/UlisaBarbic
Summary: In the days following their arrival and decision to stay in Ursalia, Ursa and Buddi Barbic have a rather heart felt discussion on what they have lost but also on what they still have left.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A piece expanding on Ursa and Buddi's relationship, taking place after "Return to Ursalia."

It smelled different here.

But then, everything smelled different here.

Even the rain.

In Barbic Woods, the rain was a sign of rebirth and replenishment, the falling drops feeding nourishment to the trees and running over the leaves, bringing with it freshness and the sweet smell of life. He would always hang his head out of the window and catch the drops in his mouth until one of the others told him to come in before he got a headache from hanging so oddly.

The rain still fell here but not the same way.

There was nothing being reborn nor replenished by this fall.

The dust around the city would turn dark and brown as it turned to mud. The old buildings leaked in several places, lacking the sap to bind the stones together to keep out all elements like their old huts had had. The smell the rain generated was that of oldness, abandonment and death. He could smell dust, he could smell mud, he could smell rusty stone and metal.

Buddi hated it.

Yet here he was, sitting on the outside balcony, by the meeting hall, letting the rain soak him through and through, drenching his clothes and matting his brown hair down so that he had to part it a little ways to see. He needed to cut it before too long. Shaking his head, he pushed the hair back under his hood, rending a tangled matted mess of fur and hair. He looked like a drowned rat but at the moment, he didn't care.

Rain felt like the only constant he had. He had been planning on it being the only constant he had. The weather was so different here, as was everything but rain fell almost everywhere. He could rely on it. So, here he was, closing his eyes and letting it fall down on his fur and skin. It was cold and wet but he found an odd comfort in it.

But not in the ways he wanted.

He wanted to feel like he had before, back home. He wanted to feel like all past things would be washed away and he could start afresh and anew with no pain or anguish. Perhaps he knew it was a pointless wish that would never be fulfilled but all the same, he hoped for it. The rain had always had that effect on him and he prayed for it to remain such.

No such luck.

All he had from the rain was soaked clothes and a shivering body. He stood, gazing skyward slightly, observing the dark clouds. It would be some time before the storm blew through completely but, his spirit unfulfilled, he saw little reason to stay out in the cold. Turning to walk back towards his new room from the meeting hall, he about jumped out of his skin at the dark figure in the doorway. His arms immediately drew up into a stance and his feet shifted slightly.

It took the low feminine chuckle to make him relax and he walked in, shoulders slumped, passing the form.

"What's so funny, Ursa?"

The female gummi didn't give him a verbal reply but she did set her eyes on him. He turned from her again, walking back outside, returning to his spot by the balcony. Thunder rumbled in the distance, calling lightning to its work. He didn't feel like walking back inside all of a sudden. His bed was warm and the others had already made sure he had enough blankets, quilts and even a Rama Fur blanket, which was like no bloodshed on a battlefield to get.

He wasn't ungrateful but he just didn't feel like crawling into that warmth just yet. He sat on his knees, letting his forehead rest against the stone balcony. He closed his eyes, letting the rain drip down his face. Maybe Ursa wouldn't notice his tears this way. It was better with rain, the one good thing the rain seemed to do here, gave him a shield to cry in.

He heard the stone pebbles shift and Ursa sat down beside him. She didn't say anything but he could feel her eyes on him. She wasn't scolding or accusing. Rather, without a word, she stretched her fingers up under his hood to rest her fingers in his ratty brown hair. She dug in her fingers then released them, dug them in, released them.

For the longest time, until they were both drenched so much that Grubbi would be likely to have a heart attack if he saw them, the two sat there, silent. Only the sound of rain hitting stone and puddles interrupted the silent vigil, with a clap of thunder every so often and a flash of white lightning illuminating the otherwise pitch black sky.

Tilting her eyes upward, Ursa finally said, "The rain's been good; it'll fill the water tanks, and-"

"I hate it."

"Eh?" Ursa lifted one eyebrow and regarded her adopted son, who had yet to take his face out of his folded arms. He let his face drape through the opening in the arms, so he was staring at the ground. She could barely see the tip of his nose but the way his shoulders heaved and his breath was strained, she knew he was upset. No big surprise. Being uprooted from their only home for the last four generations, since their clan's creation, was hard on her, on Gritti, on Grubbi, but for a small boy, barely eleven ages, well, it was a terrible blow.

"I hate it." He repeated, not lifting his head.

"Used to be couldn't drag you out of it."

"That was before."

"Has the rain changed?" she asked, simply.

"Yes."

At this, Ursa shifted her body, turning so her sole attention was on her hurting little boy. He still wouldn't look at her. "It used to be good, used to mean things were getting' born, fixed, healed. Now, it's just…it's just cold."

"you think things aren't still being cleansed by it?" she responded. "It gives us water."

"Don't want any of THIS water." He snapped, stubborn.

At this, the barbic leader frowned and her voice came out with a maternal growl embodied, "Buddi Barbic, you stop being ungrateful. Rain is giving us things we need and-"

"And where was it before?" he snapped, slamming his left fist into the stone balcony rail. Anger was not his usual attitude even when he felt something was unjust. He usually got quiet, went off on his own and sulked, sometimes he cried (though he thought Ursa and the others didn't notice which of course they did) but usually he would sit still, ponder and get over it.

Not here.

Right fist joined left in their pounding of the stone, emphasizing each word,

"WHERE WAS IT THEN?"

Jerking his head up, he stopped addressing Ursa and screamed right at the sky, "Where?! Where were you when we needed you? We can find water! Where were you when my friends went up in smoke?! Where were you when the Eastern Side fell? Where were you then?"

He picked up a small rock by his feet and chucked it at the clouds, "Stop it! I don't want any of your rain! No more of it! You didn't give it when we really needed it. Don't try making up for it now! You let my home burn down! You let my animals friends die! You let half my clan die! HALF MY CLAN!" he chucked another rock, though his tiny strength only let it come up a little ways before it came crashing back to earth. Buddi picked up another.

"Stop it! Stop it! You let them burn up! You didn't care then! So don't care now!" Another rock went skyward.

"You let them all die! Just sat there and let them die! Know how many of my friends got turned to ashes? ALL OF 'EM! All our trees! All my animals!" he snarled, though his cub growl was hardly much to be frightened of. He still snarled, his face contorted in pure rage. "What about the rest of my clan?! You let them die because you were too selfish to bring some stupid rain! Let them all get burned up, or lie down and die all coughing! I hate you! I hate you, hate your stupid wind, your stupid water! HATE IT!"

Fists met stone hard and fast, drawing some blood from his knuckles and bruises under his brown fur. His bones screamed and rejected the abuse but he punched again, screaming

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

Finally, two older hands wrapped around his small fists and drew him backward. No words again but an elder hand pushed his hood off his head and then pulled him in closer. He felt his knees leave the rocky ground and settle on two furry legs. Then his cheek met fur then a bit deeper, flesh. He took a deep inhale and recognized Ursa's scent.

His ears caught her heartbeat.

So did his cheek, rising slightly with each thump, thump, thump.

He shifted his eyes slightly and through his blurred vision of tears and rain saw her face. Not angry, but her eyes were looking at him with a look he couldn't really define, not pity, not angry…he didn't know what to call it. He did see the rain had soaked her through, leaving her golden hair looking rather knotted and her fur matted. She didn't say anything again, but pressed his head back into her bare chest.

Bare?

She'd taken off her tunic top.

An old barbic tradition: skin on skin contact for comfort and being vulnerable among your clan members for trust. Why worry? They were family, they wouldn't hurt you. Still, it was rare for Ursa to bare her vulnerable spots among anyone. Usually, even among the clan members, she only would lift her hair up sometimes, baring her neck.

But her chest, right where her heart was exposed. Such absolute and total trust.

And it felt really good. Her scent, the sound of her strong heart was like a haunting lullaby to his ears. He closed his eyes, burying his face into her light tan fur, trying to keep his sobs quiet. The trust felt good too. Knowing that she was there and that she wouldn't leave. That was a solid comfort, that was a solid constant.

A better constant than this rain.

Yes, Ursa, Gritti, all the others…They Were his constant, his rock and support, not the rain. The rain may have been once but it had betrayed him, left his family to die in fire and flame. It wasn't fair, it hurt. It hurt like knives in his heart, it hurt like fire in his throat. Choking on a uprising of tears, he stammered, shaking,

"U-ursa—"

"I know." Was her soft answer.

She pulled him close, regarding his hands in a cursory fashion. They were faintly bruised but they'd be okay. She was more concerned about the scared, hurting little cub in her arms. Unlike Buddi, she knew that like anything this would pass. It hurt, it wasn't fair but it would pass. His heart was hurting like hers was, harshly and deeply but she could look onward, toward the future. She had her clan, her friends…that was what a barbic needed. That was what defined who they were and how they survived, not a place.

She sat there, silent and quiet, letting Buddi take rest in her arms, to the lull of her heart beat.

And the rain still fell.


End file.
